Love Lost, Love Found
by Destiny5377
Summary: Separated for 26 years,reunion for these 2 lovers seem an impossibility. However,when their children meet and continue the love left to them from the previous generation,old wounds are reopened and new injuries are inflicted.AU[changed from Twisted Fate]
1. Six Feet Under

A/N: This is the first Inuyasha fic I have posted on this site so be kind to me. This is also the first time I have ever tried doing a story within a story so it may be a little confusing at first but bear with me for the first few chapters and you'll be happy that you did. (At least I hope )

Disclaimer: I don't Inuyasha or anything in it so don't bug me about it or I promise I will make you hurt. However, I do own this story and the original characters so don't steal them from me!

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**Love Lost, Love Found**

**Chapter One: Six Feet Under**

The biting breeze whipped through the eighteen-year-old girl's obsidian black hair and stung her normally warm brown eyes. Tears welled up beneath her eyelids but none had fallen yet. Leaves flew around her in mock joy and blended with the roses and flowers adorning the finely polished mahogany wood. She glanced around her and nearly laughed aloud at the ironic sight of life springing up beside the base of a nearby tombstone. Life and vibrant colors surrounded her--yet she herself was dressed in a long black dress that hugged her skin lightly, a heavy black overcoat that fell to her knees, long black leather gloves, black nylons and black heeled shoes. She was not here to celebrate life but death. The death of a man who watched her grow and loved her more than any other. The death of her father.

The droning voice of a minister buzzed in her ear alike to the incessant buzz of a bee. Many were gathered there because her father was a very likable man and had many friends. Many were in tears. Many...but not herself and not her mother.

She examined her mother's stone cold expression and was surprised at first. After all, her parents had a strong marriage that was nearing its twenty-first anniversary and they were the picture-perfect couple. Why wasn't her mother broken down and in tears? But then again, why wasn't _she _broken down and in tears. Then she looked closer and saw the pain buried deep within her mother's chocolate eyes. The pain and agony she knew she was holding back as well. Her eyes locked with her mother's and she saw understanding, love, compassion, sympathy, and the most confusing of all, dread. Dread--almost like this wasn't the first time someone she loved had died or left her and she was dreading the time realization would finally hit her. The truth of her father's death still had not hit her yet and her mother dreaded the moment it would.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Why did this happen? He was such a good man. Always caring, always looking out for others, my father. _Why him?_ she thought in despair. Oddly enough, if her father had been killed on purpose--though she didn't know who would ever do such a thing--she would have felt better than she did now because she would have someone to pour out all her hatred on. But now...he was killed by some idiot teenage drunk who lost his own life as well as taking the life of her old man.

Her grip tightened around the hand of her mother in frustration, sadness, and anger. Anger at the world, anger at her father, anger at the man who killed him, and--most of all--anger at herself.

She didn't know why she was angry with herself because she knew it had nothing to do with her, but she couldn't help it. She knew her parents were proud of her and she knew they loved her very much. But it seemed that every time she tried to do things of her own, she would mess things up. It wasn't always her fault--like this time--but bad things always seemed to happen when she was involved.

It felt like such a long time ago but in reality it was only a week ago. A week since her father died. A week since it was her eighteenth birthday.

She was in her first year away from home and at college. When she was smaller, she had skipped a year in grade school and thus she was now a freshman in college even though she should only be a senior in high school. It was never a big deal for her and it still wasn't. She got along with the older kids easily because she herself was quite mature but she always felt out of place. Like she didn't belong. And more so now than ever since one of the two people she ever felt comfortable around was gone.

Spring break...this was supposed to be her last day of spring break. Everything came flooding back in a landslide as her memories broke through.

Originally she was supposed to arrive home the day of her birthday and the trio would go out for dinner and spend some quality time together. Behind her parents' back, she had scheduled her flight to arrive one day earlier than they expected to give them a little surprise. And they were surprised. It would seem that for the first time, she had planned something and it worked out perfectly.

They hugged, they laughed, they talked, and then they went to bed. She could remember snuggling deep into the fleece blankets in her room and sighing in satisfaction at actually being able to sleep in her own room with no roommates to bother her and no noisy dorm-mates. It was the most comfortable and relaxing sleep she had for the past who-knows-how-long. No more finals to cram for, no more pulling all-nighters, no more drinking insane amounts of caffeine-chalked coffee to keep her brain going. No more worries for the next week.

And then she woke up to her worst nightmare. 

The morning had passed like a blur for her but she could still remember seeing her mother's surprised and grief-stricken face as she sat next to her on her bed and she knew. She knew before her mother said anything what had happened.

Her father had come in early that morning to kiss her goodbye before heading to work but she could barely remember that. She only knew he had come in because he had done that little act of love every morning for the past seventeen years until she went to college. And she missed it. And she knew he would never do it again.

She had glanced at the clock purely out of habit and noted unconsciously that it said 7:56. Her father had just left the house almost an hour ago. And now he was gone. Gone from this world and into the next.

Without saying a word, she had taken her mother in her arms and closed her eyes. She didn't cry and neither did her mother but they both understood each other's pain. For a long time they had just sat there in complete silence, content to be in each other's presence. Then her mother pulled back and brushed her still-mussed hair behind her ears and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry it had to happen today," she had said simply. Her mother's voice was low and raspy--like she hadn't used it in a long time and was unfamiliar with how her vocal cords worked. Then she left her to indulge in pain by herself.

Happy birthday to me, she mused bitterly.

Her mind snapped back to the present and saw that everyone was looking at her expectantly and with masked pity. She hated pity. She glanced down at her free hand and noticed that she was still holding onto the rose she was supposed to toss on the coffin along with everyone else. Understanding immediately, she solemnly stepped up to the six foot hole in the ground and let go of the single crimson rose and watched as it seemed to float slow motion onto the coffin. With one last silent goodbye, she stepped away and rejoined her mother.

The grave diggers began refilling the hole while the sound of crying grew louder all around. The minister spoke aloud and added a final word of supposed comfort. "Here lies Hojo Makoto--a husband, a father, and a friend. May the soul of this kind-hearted man rest in peace."

Everyone began to drift away after adding their condolences to the widow and daughter Hojo left behind but she heard nothing. She replied politely and properly but she didn't really hear what the people were saying. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted her father back.

"Karina?" Her mother's soft voice brought her around to reality and she saw that nearly everyone had already gone. "Let's go home."

She nodded numbly and choked back the tears once again. She was going to be strong. She had to be for her mother. She had to be for herself.

* * *

"Get back here! I'm not done with you yet!" called out his father in a commanding voice. Under normal circumstances, he would have listened to his father drone on and on but not today. Maybe he just didn't want to spend his last day of spring vacation with bloody ears. Maybe it was because he had finally lost his mind. Maybe he didn't care for the safety of his life anymore. Most probably, it was all of the above. Whatever the case, he did something that he had never done before in his life. He walked out on his father.

"Whatever, _Dad_. Just don't forget to tell Mom I'm leaving. Oh wait. You can't. She's dead. I wonder whose fault that was?" he scoffed angrily before he could stop the flow of words. He knew that this time he had gone too far.

His mother died five years ago of breast cancer despite the fact that his father found all the best doctors in all the world to help treat her. But, she didn't want to go through chemotherapy. She decided instead to die as natural a death as was possible. She was diagnosed in the fall and her body quickly deteriorated. At first, it was little things like her hand uncontrollably shaking when she tried to write. And then her movements grew stiff and hard and each step looked like she was going through hell though she had tried to hide the pain from her family and friends. Her once clear and articulate sentences slurred together like she was trying to talk with water in her mouth. She began to rely on a walking stick to get around and eventually had to opt for a wheelchair. She spent more and more of her time on her bed resting and more of her hours were spent in the world of dreams rather than in the land of the waking. Soon after that, her once sharp memory faded until her short-term memory completely disappeared. For everyone around her, this was the hardest part to watch her go through because she used to be so quick-witted. Eventually, her mind completely failed her and she could do little more than slurp up liquids and mumble incoherent syllables. Then, one morning, he woke up next to her in the hospital room and she was gone. No warning. Nothing. Just like that she had left him in this pitiful world. Even until the very end, she never once complained or whined about how unfair life was. He would make up for that during the next five years.

He knew his father could do nothing more to prevent his mother's death, but he still couldn't help blaming him. It was easier to have a scapegoat than to believe that a woman like his mom would die such a painful death.

Of course, following her slow and agonizing death, he went to several psychiatrists, counselors, and support groups to help ease the pain but nothing worked. Although his relationship with his father was by no means strong before her death, they quickly grew even further apart without the glue that held them together as a family. He began to resent his father and even hated him to a certain degree. Father-son conversations were non-existent and they even stopped going to ball games like they did when he was younger.

And of course, being the half-breed that he was, he practically had no friends to talk with. He would go to class without saying a word and then go home to silence. That was his life. That of a hard-core loner.

Ignoring his father's demands to go back and talk to him, he jumped on his Harley, jammed a polished black helmet over his head and took off out of the driveway. His long silver hair was gathered beneath a black bandana in a low ponytail and stuck out beneath his helmet. The sleeves were ripped off of his dark red shirt to reveal toned muscles and tanned skin.

Before he knew where he was going, an hour had passed and he arrived at the cemetery where his mother was buried. Sighing, he parked his motorcycle and headed for his mother's gravesite. Along the way, he passed by a gloomy-looking procession and concluded that someone must have just had their ceremony. He fought through the approaching crowd of mourners and gasped for air when he finally broke through.__

Two lone women stood still by a freshly dug grave and they fixated their eyes into the distance. They had a remarkable resemblance and he knew instantly that they were mother and daughter although the older woman could have passed for the other one's sister if she wanted to. _Must have been the husband/father or the son/brother,_ he thought.

He gave them a curt nod as he passed in respect and noticed to his surprise that neither of them were crying their eyes out. They both had on the same look of intense sadness and the younger one even seemed angry, but they weren't crying. He hadn't cried during his mother's funeral either but he thought that human girls always cried.

His gaze lingered on the younger girl a little longer and noted that the look in her eyes was actually quite frighteningly beautiful. There was sadness, pain, and anger but there was also determination, strength, and something else he couldn't quite put a finger on. And he realized then that she was a fighter and a survivor. He also noted the way her raven black hair with hints of navy blue cascaded down her shoulders and merged with a sleek black dress that hugged her body enough to show off a slim and fit body but not enough to appear slutty or lose the mysterious quality of covered skin. He appreciated that in a woman--enough confidence in themselves to not try and draw off a man's lustful nature.

Deep pools of dark sienna met with his own golden amber eyes and he shivered involuntarily as he passed by. _That girl has one freaky death stare,_ he thought absent-mindedly. _She looks really familiar too. I wonder if she's in one of my classes or something._

Shrugging to himself, he continued past a stretch of multi-colored and various sized graves and finally arrived at a large black marble tombstone. He ran his fingers along the top and found his fingers spotless like he had expected. No dust. His father had been here recently. Several bundles of various flowers lay around the base of the grave. _Why is he still pretending? Why don't people ever miss anything until they're taken away from us? _he thought bitterly, not sure whether the second question was for his father or for himself.

Sure, his parents were loving enough when his mom was alive but his father always seemed to have someone else on his mind--almost as if his mother was his second choice. His father always remembered their anniversary, the day they first met, the place they first met, their first date, all the firsts and all the things people normally expect the wives to remember. He always brought her out to dinner and bought her flowers at random, but he never gave her the thing she wanted most--his heart. He loved her in a way, but not in the way she wanted him to nor in the way she loved him. For him, marriage to her and treating her well seemed to be more of a duty than a genuine desire to be with her.

And his son resented that.

"Hi Mom. How ya doing? It's me, Benji. You know, your son? I've really missed you, Mom." He crouched down beside the tombstone and brushed away a stray blade of grass lingering on the marble. "I had another fight with Dad today. He was being a real pain in the ass. I don't know why, but somehow I ended up here. Probably because you are the only one that ever gave me any comfort when you were alive and even now. It's been five years now. Five years and a week exactly. The hurt still won't go away. I tried counseling for a while but it never worked out. They were all afraid of me because I'm part demon. Oh well. Not like I care. Stupid humans. I don't mean you, Mom," he added quickly.

He fell silent suddenly and he bowed his head in frustration. Frustration with the world, frustration with the cancer that killed his mother, frustration with his father, and frustration with himself. "You know, Mom. Times like this...I really wonder if I shouldn't just end it all. Then I don't have to put up with all the crap in this world. It really is quite tempting." He laughed humorlessly and shook his head.

"Don't try it," came a low female voice.

He turned around abruptly and his heart nearly stopped when he thought he saw his mother standing behind him. Then blind anger and slight embarrassment took over when he realized it was the girl in mourning. His first thought was, _How dare she take on the face of my mom!_ Of course, it was completely irrational and illogical, but that was how his mind worked.

At first glance, the girl had truly reminded him of his mother. However, when he looked more carefully, he observed that the girl was actually quite different. Her hair was a deeper black, her eyes betrayed all her emotions yet at the same time mysterious, her eyebrows slightly raised as if amused, her lips were probably often pulled up in laughter though they were stretched thin at the moment. And how had he gone from comparing her to his mother to silently admiring her qualities? And yes--he had to admit that he was admiring her.

Still, he was annoyed with the way she had walked in on him when he had let his guard down _solely_ for his mother. "Jeez! What the hell was that for? Don't you know how to make some noise when you walk? And what were you talking about 'don't try it'?" he snapped.

Her left eyebrow raised slightly but her face remained emotionless. "Don't you have demon blood in you?"

"Yeah, but how did you--"

"Then your senses _should_ be better than a normal human's. Shouldn't you be able to sense me long before I get to you?"

"Well, yeah, but--"

"Then it's not my problem," she interrupted again.

She's sure got guts for a human. Too much if you ask me, he thought. "What do you want?"

"Don't try it."

"Try what?"

"To kill yourself. It hurts too much," she stated simply. Then she turned her back to him and headed back towards her mother.

He was so surprised by her answer that it took him a while to gather himself. When he finally thought up a suitable reply, the girl was already a good thirty feet away and he was not about to go chasing after her just so he could spit an insult in her face.

"What a nosy little britch," he mumbled under his breath. Still, he was amazed by her boldness. She was either very brave or very dumb to talk back to a half-demon like himself.

Shrugging, he crouched down again and ran his fingers along the engravings.

Kikyo Toshiro

September 5, 1960-April 3 1999.

Loving wife and mother. She will never fade from the memory of those who knew her.

And not for the first time in his life, Benji had a very strong inclination towards being six feet under.

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A/N: You peoples are probably wondering where the heck Inuyasha and Kagome are. Well, don't worry. They're showing up. Actually, they already did and if you couldn't figure that out....well, then...uh...oops?

Anyway, this is Inuyasha/Kagome even though it might not seem like it and most of the romance between them happen in the past (wink wink) but not in the way you would think. The actual storyline, however, revolves around the two original characters I have introduced in this chapter. Anyone want to take a wild stab at how they are related to Inuyasha and Kagome? Pancakes for those who get it right!

Oh and I won't be bashing Kikyo in this fic. Granted, she isn't my favorite person in the world--in fact, she's one of my least favorite--but her death was modeled after my grandma's and I can't go around bashing people having anything to do with my grandma. So, she's actually gonna have a nice character in this one and won't be trying to drag Inuyasha into hell. (Although that would be an interesting thing to add....I might just have to think about that...)


	2. Moving On, Moving Out

A/N: Thanks to the one reader who reviewed! Pancakes for you! Anyway, sorry I took a while but school hasn't been very pleasant lately...But, the upside is that there is only 12 more days until the last day of school and trust me, I have been counting down for over a month now.

Oh and I forgot to mention last time that this story takes place in California, USA. I'm a Cali-girl so yeah. It's just easier for me to write a story that happens in somewhere I know and can relate with. Now that that's over with, on with the story.

But first, the Disclaimer: I keep telling people that I own Inuyasha but they just threw me in an insane asylum and locked me up...I think I belong there anyway, but I really do own Inuyasha. Really. What, you don't believe me?

....

Good, then you're not as dense as I thought you were. J/K

No, I don't own Inuyasha, but if they would loosen this freakin' straight jacket, I would be able to write the fanfics for it quicker...Someone? Please?

...

Okay, now that I've scared everyone away with my crazy-person antics, on with the story. Enjoy!

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**Love Lost, Love Found**

**Chapter Two: Moving on, Moving out**

She listened, took notes, laughed, talked, joked, ate, and went on with her life like normal. After all, colleges didn't care if you had a death in your family or if you got into a fatal accident. It was all the same to them. You show up, take your midterms and finals, graduate, and hopefully the alumni would send some money back to the college. They don't care about your personal life. After all, if they cared, they wouldn't impoverish the students by jacking up the prices on tuition and room and board. (A/N: I'm not even out of high school yet so I really wouldn't know how it is. I just take what my sister tells me about college and run with it.)

As a result, the day after her father's funeral, Karina was back in class and getting on with her life.

But, though not all her friends knew what had happened, they could tell that Karina was out of the loop. At one time, her laughing voice and smiling face could be heard and seen almost all the time she spent awake. She was sharp and witty, knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

Now, she was like an empty shell. Smiling when she should smile and replying politely, but without the usual spirit, when spoken to. After class, she would immediately lock herself in her room and no one knew or dared ask what she was doing. Karina was infamous for her unpleasant--to put it mildly--attitude if bothered when not in the right mood. Her roommate was still on vacation and wouldn't be returning until the end of the week. Besides, it wasn't as if they had a very good relationship. They didn't dislike each other--they just didn't especially like each other. Thus, they were content to let silence do the talking for them.

Nobody saw the dry tears that she kept hidden from everyone in the world as she flipped through the old photo albums from when she was a child. Nobody saw her frowns or sad smiles as she remembered the good times with her dad. Everybody was worried, but nobody dared to venture in.

A small smile graced her lips as she recalled all the times of happiness and trials that her father had helped her through.

Her first word, her first steps, her first birthday party...oh look! There's the picture of the car _before _she got her license...and then there's the picture of it _after_ her first time behind the wheel. She winced at the latter and finally realized why her parents were so mad at her after that little incident. After all, it wasn't every day their teenage daughter drives their SUV into the nearby telephone pole.

And then there was her first crush. Jareb something. She couldn't even remember his last name anymore. Looking through the old photos now, she cringed at the thought of her actually liking the guy at one time. He was a total jerk, wasn't even really that good-looking, and had the IQ of...uh...of a...potato! No...that would be an insult to potatoes. His was lower than that. It wasn't getting him to notice her that was the hard part...it was trying to get rid of him. In all seriousness, if he was any denser, he would never be able to lift his head off the ground.

Hojo once tried to stage a fight between Karina and him to pretend like he didn't approve of her seeing Jareb--which he didn't really approve of anyway. However, that only served to deepen Jareb's "love" and affection for Karina and he became even more relentless than before. They were about ready to move back to Japan had Hojo not had a little talk with the lovesick boy. Karina never found out what her father told him but she didn't particularly care either. As long as the idiot stopped hanging around her, he could go jump off a cliff for all she cared.

Honestly, the only reason she _thought_ she even remotely liked him was because the rest of her friends were beginning to get into boys. Heck, she was only thirteen at the time. What did she know about love? Actually, what did she know _now_ about love? She'd never had a real boyfriend before and it wasn't as if she was any more experienced now in that field than she was five years ago.

She shook her head to rid herself of the unpleasant thoughts and finished flipping through another photo album. She had brought back a whole box-full of memories back to college with her to keep the memories of her dad fresh.

She replaced the photo album she took out earlier and her brows furrowed slightly when she saw an old and slightly tattered book stuck between two albums. A mini-cloud rose from it when she wriggled it loose and wiped off the dusty cover with her hand. The spine was spiral-bound and the cover swirled dizzily in blue and green loops and whorls. She guessed it must have been an old diary or a journal that she accidentally took along when she swiped the photo albums from her parents' attic.

Karina carefully peeled open the cover and coughed as another bout of dust flew up around the book. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she traced her fingers over the name written many times in different ways over the inside of the cover.

Kagome Higurashi...This was Mom's journal/diary?

Her curiosity piqued, she sat back on her bed and flipped through page after page of hand-written diary entries. Every now and then, old pictures of Kagome and her friends and family caught Karina's eye, and her mind boggled at how much she resembled her mother during her youth. Of course, she was always told that she looked a lot like Kagome, but she never quite realized how much. Now that she saw Kagome's senior picture pasted on a page, she could have almost sworn she was looking at a twin she didn't know she had.

Her spirits were beginning to lift at the new discovery and the fun of seeing some of the respected members of the elder generation goof off when they were her age. Kagome must have had a lot of free time during her youth because little cartoon drawings of animals and flowers adorned all the margins and everything was carefully and colorfully decorated. Smiley faces could be spotted throughout her entries.

Then she saw something that made her stop cold. She frowned and did a double-take to make sure she wasn't mistaken. But she wasn't.

In big black underlined letters, the words _I HATE MY LIFE!!!_ were scrawled angrily across one whole page. Karina flipped to the next page to find the words _DAMN IT ALL TO HELL _written just as darkly and just as angrily. 

She was very surprised to find something like that in her mother's diary. After all, the woman she knew was calm although she _did _have a rather nasty temper at times. That's where Karina had inherited _her_ temper from, after all. Of course, it was possible that she was able to maintain equanimity only because she took it out on her poor diary. Either way, Karina was still shocked.

She turned to the next page and found a half-written suicide note. _Suicide note? Wait...that just _can't _be right...I mean, this is my mom we're talking about here,_ she thought incredulously.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. She turned to glare at the unknown person on the other side of the door and was about ready to yell something spiteful when she heard a muffled but familiar voice come through.

"Hey Karina! Open up, it's me."

A series of shuffles and stifled cries ensued and another voice--male this time--spoke, "Yeah. Let us in. Don't tell me you forgot all about us already."

Karina was up in a matter of seconds and scrambled to fling open the door. She let out a shriek of happiness when she came face to face with her best friend, Shina Tatsumi, and her not-quite-best-but-close friend and Shina's twin brother, Keiji. She practically knocked the other girl over when she threw her arms around her in a great big bear-hug. After all, Karina hadn't seen Shina in nearly five years since her family moved away from Japan.

With Keiji, Karina was a bit more conservative and only gave him a hard pat on the back.

They were good friends as well, but Keiji had a bad habit of groping girls when given the opportunity. He claimed that he could nothing about it because he had inherited the habit from his father who had in turn inherited it from _his _father and so on down the line. Shina would just smack him and complain about having a pervert for a brother. Karina had learned long ago not to give him any "opportunities."

"I've missed you guys _so_ much. What are you guys doing here, though?" she asked while ushering them into her room.

"Well...our parents told us what happened," replied Shina slowly, as if gauging how Karina would take it. She must have been quite relieved when Karina responded evenly for she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Oh..." Karina paused for a moment before going on. "So, how is Uncle Miroku and Aunt Sango doing anyway? Did they come too?"

"Yeah," responded Keiji, "but they went to see your mom first. You know, to see how she's holding up."

"Hm." Karina averted her eyes and spotted the open diary on her bed. She definitely did _not_ want other people--no matter how close they were to her family--to see what was written inside.

Pretending she was just trying to get off topic, she moved towards her bed and quickly flipped the diary close. Just before the pages fell into place, though, she caught sight of words that made her stop and stare for a brief moment. She didn't know why, but they stuck with her.

It's time for me to move on...

* * *

The two hanyous remained planted to the living room floor, staring each other down. Both were as stubborn as mule and neither was willing to back down.

Like father, like son.

Their physical build was similar, although the father was slightly taller and all-around thicker with muscle and Benji technically was only a quarter demon while his father, Inuyasha, was half. They had the same long silver-white hair, the same golden amber eyes, and even down to the same fuzzy white triangles positioned on the top of their head which served as ears.

Even their personalities were similar. Stubborn to a fault, prone to sudden bouts of violence, over-reactive...the list goes on. But perhaps it was _because_ they were so alike in so many aspects that caused them to be forever at odds. 

Ever since childhood, Benji had never been able to connect with his father the same way he connected with his mother. The only time he ever even spoke with him was either because he was arguing with him or because his mother was around. Other than that, they had a nice relationship of mutual silence, although it shouldn't really be considered 'nice.'

And here they were. Arguing. Again.

"Don't you dare walk out on me, son. Just because your mother is gone does not give you the right to completely ignore what I say. I _am _still your father, you hear?" warned the older hanyou with a seriously low voice.

He wasn't yelling like he would have done in his younger days but that didn't mean he was any less dangerous. If anything, there was more reason to be wary of him these days than before.

Benji snorted in response. "You can't tell me what to do. I don't have to listen to this crap and I don't need or want anything from you. I can pay my own way through college. Hell, I can even drop out and still have enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I don't need this. I'm moving out and that's that."

"No, you are not. You can't."

"Oh-ho. Just watch me."

"You do realize that I can cut you off from your bank accounts and that your only income is from me. You move out now and you'll be left with nothing except for the cash in your wallet," he threatened.

Benji growled in response and let out an impressive string of curses that Inuyasha would have proud of in his younger days. "Dammit, Dad! What the hell do you want from me? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Because, as much as you seem to hate it, you're my son! You can't change that and I don't want to change that either. For better or worse, you're stuck with me, kid." His tone softened as he added the next bit. "Besides, Kikyo wouldn't have wanted us to fight all the time. She would have wanted us to get along."

He scoffed angrily. "The hell do you know? You have no right to bring Mom up in this. You never cared about what she wanted so why bring her up now?"

Inuyasha's patience had run thin and this last bit broke through his carefully constructed composure. "I _loved _Kikyo. Yeah, she was your mother and I know you're hurting, but she was also my _wife_. Don't you think I know how you feel? Don't you think that I'm hurting as well?"

"Heh. Sure. If you loved her so much, how come you never gave her your heart? How come you always looked like you have someone else on your mind whenever you looked at her? Yeah, I was still just a kid when Mom died, but even I noticed it. You never saw the hurt looks Mom would hide from you. You never saw the silent tears she cried for you. You never saw it because you never damn well cared enough to see it! You only treated her well because it was your obligation as her husband. So don't go telling me that you loved her."

The older hanyou flinched at his son's reproach and suddenly looked very weary as he slowly settled on the armrest of one of the large sofas. It was as if he had aged twenty years in a second. His voice was hesitant and quiet, almost as if he was talking to himself. "It wasn't like that, son. It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?" He stood with his hands clenched at his sides and his foot tapping impatiently.

Inuyasha just shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"Pft. You're full of it."

Inuyasha suddenly smiled sardonically as he realized something. That was possibly the longest conversation he had had with his son ever since Kikyo died. _How ironically pathetic,_ he thought.

Benji narrowed his eyes questioningly at him. It was actually quite funny how Inuyasha knew Benji probably better than he knew himself. After all, he had been through the same type of situations when he was younger that Benji was now experiencing. He understood how the nineteen-year-old boy felt, but something in his nature--and probably in his son's nature as well--prevented him from being forward with him.

Inuyasha sighed. _This kid is getting to be too much for me. I wonder if it was this hard to raise me? I was probably ten times as bad as he is. Gotta love it that you don't truly appreciate your parents until you have kids of your own._

Aloud, he finally resigned and said, "I won't cut you off from your bank account. But if you really want to move out that badly, you _will_ have to find your own source of income. You find your own place, you figure out how you're gonna pay for it, and you stay in school no matter what. And if you ever, ever think about dropping out, I'll cut you off for good. You understand?"

Benji had only been half-listening and began to respond viciously. "You just can't let me be, now can you?" He paused for a moment and a look of confusion passed over his face. "Wait...you mean you're gonna let me go? Why?"

"Cuz you remind too much of myself, kid. And...I guess I just realized that I've been doing to you what I hated my parents doing to me." His eyes went out of focus and Benji realized that Inuyasha wasn't just talking about him anymore. He also had someone else on his mind. "Sometimes...a lot of the times, we just gotta learn to let go. To move on. In your case, to move out. And I gotta let you. Can't hang to you forever." His last words were whispered as if he was talking to himself.

Benji shuffled uncomfortably. His old man never talked to him like this before. He never explained his actions; he just did it and assumed everyone would understand. But here he was now, showing that he wasn't a stone statue like most people thought of him as.

The younger half-demon was tempted to ask if Inuyasha was feeling okay, but another part of him adamantly opposed it. _Better just get the hell out of here before the old man changes his mind._

"Okay...well, uh...I gotta go to class so yeah...I'll swing by later to pick up my stuff. I already have a place picked out so I'll be outta here by the end of this week tops." He turned to leave and was nearly out the door when he turned back his head and quietly mumbled, "Oh, and thanks."

And for the first time in five years, their conversation did not end with a slammed door.


	3. Car Accidents and The End of the World

A/N: What am I doing here again? Uh...oh yeah! I remember now. I changed the name of the story cuz the earlier one didn't fit too well. I might end up changing it again...I don't know. I'm very fickle and hate to stick with one thing. Anyway, so yeah. Thank you to my two reviewers and you both get special pancakes. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Well, last time I checked, I still own Inuyasha. However, the last time I checked, I was also still in a straight jacket locked up in a small white padded room conveniently located at a local mental institute. Yup yup. Fun stuff.

* * *

**Love Lost, Love Found**

**Chapter Three: Car Accidents and The End of the World**

The wind stung at Karina's face and her hair flew up around her, stray locks sticking in the wet liquid that fell silently from her milky brown eyes. Even though the CD player in her car was blasting with the hardest music she owned, she could hear nothing but the repeated words of, "I hate my life" and "I wish I could just die" echoing in her mind. All the windows were rolled down in hopes that the spring breeze would clear her head of those awful thoughts, but it did nothing except make the tears falls faster.

She had just spent the whole day reminiscing about all the good times in the past with Shina and Keiji and, for a short while, she was able to let go of and accept her father's sudden death. But always, in the back of her mind, the image of Hojo's funeral and Kagome's stoic demeanor throughout stuck with her and refused to leave her be. She simply could not find peace confined within a stuffy dorm-room, although she was with her two best friends.

So, she opted for the open roads.

In truth though, even the open roads weren't really quite open. When you lived in as busy a city as Los Angeles, nothing is ever open. It was frustrating and more than annoying, especially with all the wolf whistles and car horn honks she received from passing idiots, but it was all she had to make do with.

One would think that since her father was just killed in a car accident, she would have developed an understandable phobia of driving. However, it seemed just the opposite was true.

Karina, for some odd reason, had always found peace while driving. It seemed to be her method of relieving stress and escaping the hectic schedule of a college student.

But today it just wouldn't work for her.

Nothing seemed to be able to eradicate the words from Kagome's, her mother's, diary from Karina's mind. Most likely because they were words that she herself had spoken not too long ago.

Nobody knew, partly because she didn't let anyone close enough to know. Shina was too far away, since she lived in Japan and Karina lived in California, to be of any immediate comfort and it would feel awkward if she ever told her parents--or rather, parent now.

So, she had kept those little suicidal thoughts buried deep inside her mind for many years until they were brought to a breaking point. She often wondered if she should go see a psychiatrist or something of the like, but then she figured that if she did that, she would have to tell her parents and that just plain wouldn't be good.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud, decidedly masculine yell and she snapped her attention back to the roads in front of her. She barely had time to react when a tall figure barely leaped out of the way in time to prevent himself from an untimely end. She slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shitty shit shit, she kept repeating in her mind. Out loud, she was a bit more conservative and settled for, "Oh crap, oh crap, oh crappity-crap crap," as she nearly kicked down her car door in an effort to see if she had killed anyone.

A young man with his long black hair--_how odd for a guy to have such long hair,_ she thought--pulled into a low pony-tail and his face obscured stood slightly hunched over, scant inches away from the side of her car. Even in the night--it wasn't too dark, though, since there were so many street-lights and the like--Karina could make out a dark liquid-like substance covering all of the young man's side and running down his left leg in streams of blood.

It looked awfully terrible but she assumed it must have looked worst than it felt because the man--with barely a limp in his stride--made his way to the hood of her car and sat down heavily.

"Oh my God! Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I just...I...ugh...um...uh," was the intelligent stream of syllables that spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Oh gosh. I am _so _sorry! I should call 9-1-1. You look terrible."

"You damn right you should be sorry. God, woman. Look where you're driving. Jeez. You're lucky I got quick reflexes or you'd be doing time in jail for manslaughter," he grumbled viciously, his head still turned away to examine the extent of his injuries.

Karina flinched but a part of her sparked. She was expecting something like that from someone she almost ran over, and she knew she was at fault. But that didn't mean that she would take a verbal thrashing without retaliating. "Well, maybe _you_ should look for cars with inattentive drivers before crossing the freakin' street! This _is_ L.A. you know."

His head snapped up and he looked at her incredulously with swirling depths of pure black eyes and she got a good look at his face for the first time. A hint of recognition flashed within her but was quickly suppressed in favor of arguing. "You're crazy. Do you even hear what you're saying? God, I've never heard anything so frickin' dumb in my life! Just 'cause you live in L.A. don't mean you gotta drive like a damn lunatic." He threw his hands up in the air and mimicked her voice mockingly. "Oh yeah, I live in L.A. so that gives me the right to run over people and not give a damn about it. God, and people think I'm crazy."

She would have replied with something nasty if she hadn't noticed the way his face looked unnaturally pale in the fluorescent streetlights and the way a steady stream of blood flowed from the place on her car on which he sat to form a small puddle on the concrete sidewalk.

Either this guy has can't feel anything 'cause his nervous system has been damaged or he's just really, really dumb not to notice how much and how quickly he's losing blood. I'm kinda leaning toward the latter but I'll be in deep crap if it's the former...she thought.

"Oh, hey you know...I'd really love to finish our conversation, but you seem to be losing a lot of blood and loosing it quickly, so maybe you'd like to stop bleeding before we continue. It's kinda hard arguing with a dead guy," she said sarcastically.

The guy's reaction wasn't quite what she expected.

"Aww...I'm touched. You're worried," he replied with a growing smirk.

She blinked her eyes once. Then twice.

She expected him to be screaming for a hospital or passing out by now but he didn't give any indication that he would do either.

Finally, she answered, "No, actually. Sorry to disappoint but I just don't want you to stain my car with _your _blood."

He took in a sharp breath of air and the smirk faded. It seemed that her words had struck a nerve. With clenched teeth, he gritted out, "Glad to know that you know your priorities."

* * *

Considering he was almost run over by an SUV, Benji had been in a relatively good mood. He hated to admit it, but he was actually kind of having fun arguing with the human girl. He recognized her from a couple days ago as the girl from the cemetery but decided not to say anything just to see how long it would take for her to figure out he was the same guy or if she even remembered him at all.

It was refreshing to have human contact that didn't stutter and suddenly have somewhere to go or someone to see the moment they saw him. But then again, most times people had his dog ears to worry about, not to mention his claws and fangs.

Still, even in his human form, he was still a formidable looking feller. Or at least he liked to think so.

It was just easier to cope with being isolated when people shun you even when you look half-way normal. At least then he wouldn't have to blame his heritage or something he couldn't change like that.

But, the moment the girl said that she didn't want her car stained by his blood...it hurt. Although she had left out that one word, just her tone of voice was enough to remind him of his bloodline. His _tainted_ blood.

She probably had no idea what she was implicating, but God...why did she have to say it like that?

Damn it. It must be all these dumb human emotions getting to me. I don't give a shit what she thinks about me. I don't even know the damn bitch. Why should I care?

"You're a bitch," he suddenly remarked out the blue.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise and her eyes narrowed indignantly. "Well, you're an ass. God, I _said _I should call 9-1-1, but _no, _you had to start an argument with me. It's not my fault you're dirtying everything with your blood."

And there it was again. Dirtying everything. His blood. His _dirty _blood. 

He was tired of talking with her and being constantly reminded of his impure heritage. Yeah, he had had fun earlier but the girl was just pushing her luck, although there was no way she could have known it. "Whatever. I'm outta here."

He got off the hood of her car and tried to walk away, but she suddenly stopped him and pushed him back down. He scowled at her and was met by commanding eyes that held an uncanny resemblance of a mother rebuking her child.

"Oh, no you don't. You are going to stay right here until an ambulance comes and takes you to the hospital. I don't your want your life on my head."

"I ain't gonna die from these measly injuries. If I thought I was gonna be in any serious trouble, be assured that I wouldn't be sitting here right now, okay? Now leave me alone, you stupid little bitch."

"Will you stop calling me that?! Jeez. Where did you go to school? You obviously don't have a plethora of words to choose from your vocabulary bank. And I don't care how well you think you are. I'm _not _going to take any chances of getting sued or charged for manslaughter just because you were too stubborn to go to the hospital."

Benji growled, more than irritated by now, and bit out, "Well, _sorry _for being uneducated, Miss-Know-It-All! Dammit woman! Why won't you just leave me the hell alone? I don't want or need your money so I ain't gonna sue you and I don't need a damn hospital, got it? I'm fine."

Once again, he stood and tried to walk away, but surprisingly, the girl held him pressed firmly against the door of her car. _I must be weaker than I thought if this scrawny little girl could push me back like this. Maybe going to the hospital isn't such a bad idea after all. Like hell I'll let _her_ know that though._

"And I said that I don't give how well you think you are! You are NOT moving from this spot until you get medical treatment. And don't argue with me because you don't want to see me angry."

That surprised him a little bit. If this wasn't what she considered angry, he would hate to be around when she really got mad.

She fished a flame-cased Motorola flip-phone from her back pocket with one hand while the other remained firmly planted on his chest, holding him still against the car. In all actuality, it probably wouldn't have been too hard for him to get away, but something prevented him from doing so. And he did not think it was her hand.

Sighing in mock defeat, he sagged into a more comfortable standing position against the door and propped his elbows up on the window. He turned his head to the side, feigning disinterest in the girl, but kept his the corner of his eyes trained on her.

Like the time he saw her before, the girl kept most of her skin covered wearing a loose-fitting light blue t-shirt without any extraneous writings on it, indigo sweat bands on each arm with the initials K.M. stitched into them with gold thread, dark jeans with a holes ripped at the knees, and gray converses marked with black words he couldn't quite make out in the dark with his lesser human vision. Her long hair fluttered about wildly when a small gust of wind breathed life into the stifling L.A. streets but she could do nothing to restrain it since both hands were busy. The addition of her recalcitrant tresses added a somewhat exotic quality to her presence. She was restrained and simple but also mysterious and unpredictable; a deadly combination.

Benji was brought back to attention by the soft snapping shut of her phone. "Kay, well the cops are on their way as well as an ambulance so sit tight for a while."

He rolled his eyes dramatically but only responded with a rude, "Keh."

* * *

Karina couldn't understand why the stranger was being so rude. She was just trying to help and here he was, bent on making everything harder than it needed to be. Yeah, she had almost run the guy over but that didn't give him the right to rail her all the time.

Well, okay, maybe a little. But just a little.

But now that they were waiting for the ambulance and sitting in silence, she couldn't help but notice how incredibly perfect the muscles in his arms were sculpted and couldn't help but wonder if the muscles beneath his black sleeveless shirt were equally impressive. She had only looked to down to his arms because it was getting harder and harder to fight the eminent blush that rushed to her face just by looking at his impossibly stunning face but now she was starting to question that decision. Yeah, those gorgeous dark violet eyes were hard to look into without swooning but it wasn't easy trying to keep a clear head with his body in her vision either.

It didn't help that he had just removed his shirt to see just how bad he was bleeding, which wasn't as bad as Karina had first assumed. It was all Karina could do to prevent herself from gasping aloud at the flawless body that stood before her. It was night, but the streetlights cast more than enough light for her to see every detail.

Well, I wanted to know if the muscles under his shirt were as impressive as his arms...And man, are _they!_

Karina wasn't normally one that was easily taken in by good looks, especially good looks that came with an ass of an attitude--_speaking of asses...ah wait! stop!_--but this guy wasn't just good looks. He was more than that. As a matter of fact, she wasn't quite sure what he was.

No human can look that good. It's gotta be illegal or something, right? Ah, stop it girl. Pull yourself together. He's hot, but that doesn't mean you gotta go fawning all over him like some teenage school girl going through puberty! Right, control. Breathe in. Breathe out. Okay, I'm good.

She looked up to his indifferent eyes and nearly panicked. _Not good, not good! Code good-looking-guy-save-me-from-embarrassing-myself-more-than-I-already-have! Oh, what the heck is wrong with me? I don't normally act this way._

A small voice in the back of her head reminded her that she didn't normally see people like _him._

Yeah, jerks like him. Hey...

She suddenly realized that as long as she kept reminding herself that he was the biggest jerk on the face of the planet, it was easier to cope with the fact that he was also the most gorgeous creature in human existence. Not a lot, but a little. 

"Hey!" His voice brought her out of her little daze and forced her to look into his eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

Why do you torment me like this? she silently cried.

However, out loud, she kept her voice steady and, harsher than she meant to sound, snapped, "What?"

He held his hands up in surrender, giving her a full look at how his muscles worked, and replied, "Jeez, chill out. I was just gonna ask you what your name is. Don't gotta get all snappy on me."

She raised a questioning brow at him. "You're actually being half-way nice? I don't see any asteroids coming and if I'm not mistaken, we're not at war at anyone that would blow us all to smithereens with nuclear warfare."

"Dude, that's it. I give. I try being the nice guy and suddenly it's the end of the world.

Karina suddenly laughed aloud, relaxed now. It was so much easier to talk to the guy when they were trading insults. "I'm sorry. It was just too tempting. And my name is Karina Makoto by the way. And you are?"

He smirked as if it was beneath him to give his name to her but he would do it from the kindness of his heart.

Arrogant little bastard...

"Benji Toshiro."

Toshiro. That name rung a bell but Karina wasn't sure from what. She looked at Benji quizzically but he just kept that stupid smirk planted on his pretty face.

Oh shit! It can't be that _Toshiro. He is about the right age, though...If he's who I think he is, he's got reason to be arrogant. Oh crap, what did I get myself into?_

Gulping visibly, she gave a nervous laugh before asking, "Um...you're not related to the multi-billionaire and the guy that pretty much owns California, Inuyasha Toshiro by any chance, are you?"

* * *

A/N: Dunh, dunh, dunh. Oh no, whatever will happen next? I want my mommy...

Okay, I'm officially freaking myself out as well now. Gosh, I really gotta learn when to shut up and quit being melodramatic.


End file.
